


Rest stop

by angelfiregirl80



Series: Prompts [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 21:32:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5642698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelfiregirl80/pseuds/angelfiregirl80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was about to push the liquid in, but his hand was stopped with a sudden force, the syringe flew away from his arm, and the needle was retired with a certain gentleness. Suddenly lips were on his forehead and John was kneeling in front of him, shaking him, holding him for dear life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rest stop

**Author's Note:**

> A little sadness that needed to leave my heart...  
> Beware: Drug use discussed ahead

One afternoon, after a particularly extenuating case, a family of five murdered ferociously by the daughter’s deranged boyfriend, Sherlock wasn’t in the mood to keep with John’s sad and dejected sight; he had enough of it and didn’t want to live with it for the rest of their lives. He had done everything for John; he even kept secret his love for him, just in case John’s sexuality might be threatened by the admission, though he had finally confessed how he felt.

He walked in the flat to find his flatmate sitting in the same exact position he had left him this morning, the tea cup cold for who knows how many hours, his eyes glazed over some memory of his treacherous wife. He was thinner, he looked older, the spark that lit Sherlock’s heart was gone from his eyes; it was over six months since all happened, and John didn’t get back to his feet, he was a living dead. Sherlock was out of his mind, John was like a ghost. He barely ate or sleep, he didn’t go to work; he didn’t even shave. Sherlock was done with all this; he knew that John didn’t love him back, that to John, he was just a rest stop, before he went on with his life, or whatever it was before he met Sherlock.

He sat right in front of him holding his little mahogany box; he had purchased some cocaine a couple days ago, he needed something to help him out, to delete his love for John, so he could keep on going just for a couple more years until John could find another wife and he could get rid of the lump John had become. He even maybe able to finish it all up once and for all, more than just the usual 7% and it all will be over.

Sure, he had claimed that he had saved his life, and indeed, Sherlock had done that in so many ways and so many times, but when he needed John the most, no to shoot a cabbie or kick a criminal, buy when he truly needed him, John had left with his wife to live his suburban life. The date that Sherlock had set as the six months limit, exactly six months after John came back, after finally realising that it was more than impossible that he could ever find an excuse for his “daughter’s” black hair and brown eyes, and after he went back to 221B and to Sherlock; Sherlock had confessed his love to him, had told him that he loved him as more than just a friend, that he was in love with him, and that he had been in love with him for the past four years and six months, John just looked at him and went upstairs without a word.

A week after his confession, John didn’t even noticed him anymore, he just sat there and suffered for his wife and kid, not that the kid was his, nor that his wife was who she claimed she was, so to Sherlock, this wasn’t as painful as he claimed it to be; though Sherlock knew better, he was properly informed about John’s state while he was away, so he decided to give him time. It had taken John six months to get better, to get over the death of the man he claimed was his best friend, so how long could it take him to get better from this; it wasn’t like Mary or the baby were dead, he was betrayed, not once, but twice by the same woman, and it had always taken six months.

To Sherlock, the silence hurt more than a rejection, a no would have sufficed, but not knowing what John was thinking was killing him slowly; it was decided, if John wanted to keep on suffering, it was on his, Sherlock was done, he couldn’t save a life that didn’t want to be saved. He opened the mahogany box and prepared everything, in plain sight, he didn’t care anymore, at least he could die looking at John, even though it was but a carcass of the friend he once knew and loved.

He tied the elastic band to his forearm and prepared the vein, it popped almost immediately, eagerly waiting for his relief; he pushed the needle in, taking a breath, relaxing for the last time. He closed his eyes and took some time to think of his John, the John that he had loved and said goodbye to him, closing the John room in his Mind Palace. He moved his hand to feel the syringe, a few seconds more and all will be over.

“I loved you John. Oh how I loved you. Oh… how I love you. Goodbye John”

He was about to push the liquid in, but his hand was stopped with a sudden force, the syringe flew away from his arm, and the needle was retired with a certain gentleness. Suddenly lips were on his forehead and John was kneeling in front of him, shaking him, holding him for dear life

“Open your eyes you git! How many times have you done this?” John’s furious voice came out like a roaring storm             

“This is the first time since the plane” Sherlock said looking at John

“And why where you just about to do it again?” John could barely breathe, his eyes filled with anger and desperation

“You” Was Sherlock’s simple answer

“Me?” John was flabbergasted

“Yes you. I needed my friend back, and the only place I have you, the whole of you, the way I want to have you is in my mind palace, and the drugs help me focus on just you, the you I knew, the you I loved” Sherlock was crying without noticing it

“You… loved me?” John’s eyes went from angry to sad

“Yes John. I loved you” Sherlock closed his eyes

“Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?” John’s voice broke

Sherlock opened his eyes and looked at John; he could see sadness, desperation, anguish even. John was hurt, and Sherlock was the one that hurt him again. He couldn’t understand what was happening, his mind tried to read John, but as always, it was useless, he just didn’t want to hurt anymore seeing things that weren’t there.

“Answer me, please?” John begged

Sherlock sighed, closing his eyes again, he rested his head on the back of his chair and knew all was said and done, John would leave him, go on living, find a new wife, have the kids he wanted to have, and Sherlock would be alone, again, until John’s life crumbled apart, again, the only difference being that by the next time, Sherlock wouldn’t be there. There was nothing left to lose so he breathed in and cleared his throat

“I love you John, I always have and I firmly believe that I always will. I already told you that I love you, that I’m in love with you, I tried to talk to you and you left me alone after I opened my heart to you, you have been avoiding me for the past week, and you don’t even acknowledge my presence anymore. I know you need to heal, I received you back in what I always thought was our home; I been here for you, all the time, taking care of you, but I too need someone to take care of me, I’m sorry if I asked too much of you for our entire relationship, that I’m needy and selfish, that you feel abused all the time, but I act this way because I not only love you, but I trust you, I need you, you’ve become my life John, and I can’t see my life fading away slowly, leaving me every time he seems fit or he finds a new interest, there is only so much I can endure, and your rejection was the last drop; I’ve tried to get over you for the past year, and nothing works, and you just sit there, gaze void, avoiding me, not even noticing if I come or go, and I’m sorry but I’m done; there is only so much I can do for you. I gave you my heart, my life, everything I could give, and I’ll give you anything you ask for, but I’m done. If you want I can move out, I can leave, but I’ll never come back. If you want, you can leave, but you’ll never find me here again, I can’t keep on being you rest stop John, I can’t keep on being just a place that you come back and heal, and then leave when you seem fit, to come back when it seems convenient. I know, I’m your “best friend” but there is only so much I can give without receiving, and I’m done giving”    

John felt his heart break, Sherlock was right, he was always giving, and John was alive because of this mad man he had loved since the day they first met. The day of the confession John was ready to tell Sherlock that he loved him, and left to his room to get his dog tags to give to Sherlock as a token of his love; but when he came back Sherlock was gone, nowhere to be seen in the small flat. He waited for him, but he fell asleep in his chair; Sherlock didn’t come back until the next day, and it was rather late; John just sat there in his chair waiting for him every day.

The next morning Sherlock left without saying goodbye, John was fast asleep in his chair and all he could hear was the door closing behind his friend. He made some tea and sat again to wait for his madman and was daydreaming about the life to come; about how he could finally tell Sherlock he loved him and give him his dog tags as maybe an engagement gift. He fell asleep, he was tired, he had barely ate the last couple of months, and he couldn’t sleep much, the only times he felt truly happy was when Sherlock sat in front of him and shared the silence. He didn’t hear Sherlock coming, and when he opened his eyes, he saw the most horrible thing he could have ever seen; his Sherlock was about to shoot up a sizable amount of drug.

Sherlock’s eyes where closed and he looked almost peaceful. He moved his hand to the syringe and John jumped at it, he swat Sherlock’s hand away and removed the syringe and the needle, tossing it as far away as possible. He kissed Sherlock’s forehead and held him as close as possible. He only moved away when Sherlock said he loved him, and John had to ask.

“I… I’m sorry… I love you too” John said with a shaky voice. “You’ve been avoiding me too you know?” John cleared his throat and rested his hand on Sherlock’s arm; under the needle prick. “The day you said you were in love with me, I went up the stairs to get my dog tags and give them to you, I want you to have them. I’ve been waiting in this chair for almost a week for you to come back and tell you that I love you too, that I want to spend the rest of my life with you and that I’m grateful to know you, to have you, to be loved by you; but you leave early, come back late, and most times I just fall asleep on this chair, waiting for you to come home. I’m glad I woke up the moment I did, or I don’t know what I could have done if you left me again. I’m sorry I took you for granted, love, I’m so sorry. I thought it was enough to have you as a friend, but after I came back this last time, I needed time to clean my heart for the terrible feeling of mistrust Mary created; I needed to be whole for you, and it took me some time, I’m sorry for that my love, you’ve never been just a rest stop, you are my life, and I’m sorry for never telling you that. Maybe I should have jumped your bones the moment you said you loved me, but I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to kiss you so badly but I had to shave, brush my teeth, take a bath, be presentable and give you my tags, but you just disappeared. Would you please wait for me now? Just a couple of minutes, please?” John begged again

Sherlock nodded, he was not only surprised, but all the tension he was feeling left his body and he felt as if all his prayers had been answered, John told him he loved him. A minute later John was downstairs and smiled at Sherlock, he went to the bathroom, took a quick but thorough shower, brushed his teeth and shaved. Sherlock was still in his chair when he made his way out.  He kneeled in front of Sherlock and kissed his hand before putting his tangs on Sherlock’s palm

“I love you Sherlock, always have; always will. Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”  

“I love you too John, for ever, and yes I will, as long as you spend the rest of your life with me”

John kissed Sherlock for the first time and never stopped kissing him ever since.


End file.
